Hank hates things that roll. Suitcases, hand trucks, some strollers, and those wire basket carts used by the elderly and the laundry and grocery delivery people- Hank cowers when they pass by. In our neighborhood, babies and deliveries (the non-maternity type) are the norm, so we stay on our toes.
Hank also hates loud noises, which is especially inconvenient right now with the road work going on outside our door. We have to time our walks just right- we go out before the giant machines crank up, while the workers are still enjoying bagels and coffee from the Lenny's around the corner; and then we go out during their lunch break, when they are enjoying sandwiches and sodas from the Lenny's around the corner. (Lenny's is good, I have to say.) After lunch, they call it a day.
Hank is also not a fan of grates. Ever been to NYC? They're everywhere. If you're one of those people who doesn't like to walk on them, then you know how tough they are to avoid, and your traveling companion knows how irritating it is to walk with you while you try to step around them. Imagine if your feet were bare and really tiny, and that you had four of them. Welcome to Hank's world.
But don't feel sorry for him, and don't resent us. All these tormentors are canceled out by the big, beautiful, lush, cool, fragrant (for people AND beagles) park at the end of our block. Instead of dragging sweet Hank through the gauntlet of doggie dangers on the streets of the Upper West Side, we walk him past the Zeta/Douglases place, and take him into Central Park. From the discarded hotdog buns to places where other dogs have peed, there are so many things there Hank loves, he barely remembers the UPS delivery guy and the giant stack of boxes from Zappos.
It's a dog's life for Hank, and some days, it looks pretty darn good.
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